


Picnic

by aBarlowRose



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Aphrodisiacs, Blankets, Ficlet, Implied/Referenced Blow Jobs, John Watson's Jumpers, Kissing, M/M, Making Out, Nature, One Shot, Picnics, Sequel, Short, Short One Shot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-13
Updated: 2018-11-13
Packaged: 2019-08-23 08:05:01
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 393
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16615097
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/aBarlowRose/pseuds/aBarlowRose
Summary: It's a little chilly on the cliffs for a picnic.





	Picnic

_(Sequel to[Falcon](https://archiveofourown.org/works/16608860) _ _, because it already has a picnic started.)_

The falcon coasts above them as Sherlock and John lie beneath the sky, Sherlock’s head in John’s lap, John’s hands tangled in his hair. Their lips are both a bit red, and Sherlock’s collar is unbuttoned as far as John could reach without removing the detective’s coat. It’s a cool afternoon, but the wool blanket Sherlock conjured into existence from somewhere under that coat keeps them plenty warm and away from the damp ground. John laughed out loud when Sherlock suddenly backed away from him and unfurled the blanket, giving John a grin that said,  _I didn’t make you pack everything_.

They kissed and dropped onto the blanket, Sherlock pushing his hands up under John’s jumper and brushing his lips over the gap between it and John’s jeans. John’s hands played in his hair and one foot pushed lightly against Sherlock’s hip whenever he got adventurous and did something wicked with his tongue. After a while, John pulled Sherlock gently by the hair and he raised himself so his face was level with John’s, which was flushed and breathless.

“So how’s the country air doing for you?” he asked smugly.

“Wonderful,” John said with a growl, and pulled Sherlock down to his lips.  

And now they are lying on their backs, Sherlock’s head in John’s lap, the falcon above them. Sherlock hums a little happy sound now and again as John’s fingers card through his hair, and he feels John’s breath in the rise and fall of his hips. John watches the falcon, as dark against the sky as the hair twined around his fingers, and begins to chuckle softly.  

“What is it?” asks Sherlock.

“I don’t know if this was your plan all along, or if you’re really hungry, but I  _did_  pack a picnic,” John answers good-humoredly. Sherlock laughs with him, then gets up and grabs the picnic basket from its place near the edge of the bluff. He opens it as he returns, pulling out a bottle of wine, a cooler, and something wrapped in tinfoil. John watches as he cracks the cooler open and peers inside.  

Sherlock begins to laugh, and pulls out a container of oysters. "I assume there is chocolate in the foil?“ he snickers.  

"I didn’t say this wasn’t my plan as well,” John replies happily.

**Author's Note:**

> I had to double check that I meant to imply the blow job. I did. We'll kick that habit soon enough.
> 
> Thanks for reading! Please comment any tw/cw tags you'd like to see applied.


End file.
